


Masks and the men that wear them

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Series: Wizardverse [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Harassment, M/M, Multi, Prostitution, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:05:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zeke is one of the party favors at a masquerade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masks and the men that wear them

**Author's Note:**

> Contains: prostitution of and sex with an underaged person (Zeke is 17 now but has been in the biz for years and it’s mentioned), the use of misogynistic/sexist slurs, double penetration, dubious consent, sex worker shaming

“I knew you liked them young, but that little incubus is pushing it.” Idris walks into Sasha’s office as though he owns the place and slides the door shut behind him without waiting for her to give him permission or react beyond outraged sputters. He locks it with a quick twist of his long fingers and smiles widely as Sasha frowns at him. “How old is the little whore?”

Sasha hisses out a breath of air and closes her eyes tight enough that it must hurt “He’s old enough to work here,” she says in a low voice, “All of my workers are licensed and above the age of consent.” It’s the main thing that Sasha pays attention to about her brothel. No one gets hired if they’re under the national age of consent.

At least… No one gets hired above the table unless they’re sixteen or older.

Idris stays smiling, white teeth flashing out of a dark face. “I know you, Sasha,” he says with a sibilant accent sliding along his words. “I know who you’ve been fucking on the government’s dime and that little boy isn’t one of them. You were with him before he even had his horns.” The smile on Idris’ dark face is wielded like a dagger and he leans forward, bracing his big hands on the top of Sasha’s desk and leaning over until he’s in her personal space. “He’s grown up well, but I doubt he’s even seen his first heat cycle yet.”

Sasha flinches at the naked interest in Idris’ deep voice and goose pimples raise on her golden skin. “Don’t you dare touch him,” she snarls, forgetting for a moment that Idris is a djinn and far more open to maiming and murder than the demons that she usually comes into contact with. “He’s not one of your victims to toy with!” Fingers shaking, Sasha tries to hold Idris’ crimson gaze.

“Please, Idris,” she breathes, voice wavering with fear as she watches Idris with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything if you let Zeke be at the masquerade.”

Idris looks contemplative for a moment, but then he starts laughing. “I’m sorry, Sasha,” he says without sounding anything of the sort. “You don’t have anything that I want.” He pauses to let his tongue slide out over his full lips, purple flesh sliding over his black lips in a lewd caress. “Except for that little whore of yours, that is. I’ll be sure to take good care of him.”

He sweeps out of Sasha’s office without another word, leaving the madam sitting and wishing quite desperately for a cigarette and a silver blade.

*

Zeke is coming back from his turn at working the floor when he gets pulled aside into an alcove by one of the masked patrons at the party. He winces for the press of strong fingers digging into his forearm and turns to snap at the person holding him, the angry words already on the tip of his tongue.

The words dry up in his mouth when he sees the man —no, demon— holding him fast by one arm. Larger than Zeke by a good amount, the demon standing behind Zeke is both broad and tall, towering over Zeke until his cracked silver horns brush the top of the ceiling. The demon’s skin is dark, ink black and smooth except for lines of stretching silver curling over his flesh, and where his hand grips Zeke’s pale arm, it looks out of place and oddly obscene.

“What are you?” Zeke asks, too busy staring up at the crimson-eyed demon beaming down at him to realize that not only is he being rude, but that he’s being careless.

The hallway that they’re in is a tiny one, off to the side of the room that Sasha is using for the masquerade. The alcove is even smaller. Zeke can barely breathe without his chest brushing that of the demon in front of him and when he shifts his back against the wall, the demon only inches closer until he’s almost got Zeke pinned to it.

There’s a flash of white teeth and a slick purple tongue before the demon speaks to Zeke in a deep hissing tone not unlike the snake demons that come and play every month or so. “I’m a client,” the demon says as he finally releases Zeke’s hand in favor of bracketing the young incubus’ body with his own. “You’re not being paid to ask questions are you?”

Zeke shakes his head and frowns, reaching a hand up to touch the mask resting atop his head. “I’m off for an hour,” he says in a calm enough voice even though he knows how fast his heart is beating in his chest, “If you want to have sex, you’re going to have to wait until I’m back on the floor.”

“What if I don’t want to wait?” The demon cups Zeke’s cheek with one big hand, leaning in as he strokes his claw-tipped fingers over his skin. “I can smell your desire. No one out there has given you exactly what you need, have they?” This close up, the demon’s eyes are like burning colas as they fix on Zeke’s eyes and it’s like he’s  _daring_  Zeke to tell the truth. “You want to be fucked until you’re sore. No one has given you that all night. I can smell your dissatisfaction.”

“I need to go eat,” Zeke says instead and it’s not ‘Let me go’ or ‘I don’t want you’. He tries to move away, but the demon pinning him doesn’t budge. “You can talk to me in an hour,” Zeke repeats, trying and failing to keep the edge out of his voice. “I’ll scream for Sasha if you don’t let me go right now.”

The demon’s smile… sharpens. It feels brittle and painful as he looks Zeke up and down. “Is that a promise, little one?”

Zeke bristles, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He pushes past the larger demon and is surprised when he actually manages to get out of the alcove. Turning around, he frowns at the demon still standing halfway in the hallway. “If you want to fuck me,” he says, feeling himself become braver the longer he spends away from the smiling demon. “You’re just going to have to wait until I’m back on the clock.”

*

“How many men have you fucked so far?” Aizen asks against Zeke’s ear as he rocks his hips forward, teasing Zeke with the drag of their dicks together. “How many men have had what is supposed to be mine?” He bites at Zeke’s skin, leaving the surface bruised but unbroken as Zeke undulates between Aizen’s body and the wall at his own back.

Zeke shakes his head, breath hitching in the little cut out booth where Aizen has him pressed up against a wall. “O-only two,” he says in a shaky whisper as his dick leaks against his bare stomach and he feels Aizen’s breath fan over his cheek. “Sasha picked them out for me and I used protection for both of them.” Zeke pauses and then bites at his bottom lip. “There was a demon though,” he says in a hushed tone. “He wanted to fuck me, but… It was my break time.”

Aizen opens his mouth as though to ask a question, but then the curtains to their booth slide open and a familiar face peeks in.

“I’ve been looking for you, little one,” the demon from before says with a smile as he takes in Zeke’s positioning. “It looks like you’ve found someone else to give you what you need. Should I leave you alone now?”

Zeke says yes at the same time that Aizen barks out the word no.

Aizen looks the demon over with an unreadable expression on his face and then gestures for him to come closer. “It’s been a long time, Idris,” he says once the demon is within arms’ reach of them both. “I thought you were above this sort of thing.

The demon —Idris— smiles. “I could say the same thing about you,” he says as he watches Zeke squirm between the wall and Aizen’s body. “I didn’t know you had a thing for barely legal incubi.” Licking his lips, he walks closer until he’s able to touch Zeke with the tips of his fingers. “What’s so good about this one?”

“Would you like to find out?”

*

Zeke has been shared before. It’s a popular position with threesomes and Zeke has experience with being split between two lovers who want to use him until there’s nothing left for him to give.

Doing that sort of thing with Aizen and  (his friend?) Idris—

It’s different.

“You can take it,” Aizen says in a confident tone as he watches Zeke’s stretched out asshole flutter around the spearing head of Idris’ dick. He rubs Zeke’s stomach as the demon whimpers and tries to pull away from the pressure of being opened up. “You’re going to take it and you’re going to like it.”

“ _Uhn_ — Aizen,” Zeke sobs, fingers twisting in his hair as Idris scratches up his thighs and leaves welts behind in his wake. “It’s too much!” Zeke’s face is wet with tears and sweat, but he keeps going, keeps taking that fat dick until his balls are touching Idris’s groin and he can’t think—

Aizen nuzzles the back of Zeke’s neck. “You’re such a good boy,” he croons as Zeke starts to play with his horns and his tail flails behind his body. “You took Idris in so well and you’re going to take me too.” He reaches down between Zeke’s legs and uses to fingers to  rub at the little incubus’ clenching hole where it’s stretched out around Idris’ dick, teasing him with the added sensation.

Zeke starts panting as Idris fucks up into him. His head rolls on his neck and he can’t stop moaning and whimpering as he’s opened up even more. “I-I  _can’t_ ,” Zeke breathes, shivering at the implications of that touch. “I can’t take you both. It’ll hurt and you can’t possibly fit.”

“I can,” Aizen says as he pushes a finger into Zeke’s body, “And I will.”


End file.
